


The House At The End of the Lane

by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Do Not Re-Post To Another Site, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Modern Era, Multi, Polyamory, Reincarnation, Short & Sweet, They Can Have A Little Happiness. As A Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24169336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf/pseuds/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf
Summary: Three people live there. Used to be only one. No one is quite certain where the other two came from.
Relationships: Freya/Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 140





	The House At The End of the Lane

There's a house at the end of a lane in the town of Avalon, so named for the lake whose shore it is built beside. Three people live there.

For the longest time, only ever one person lived there. Sometimes a very old man, sometimes a young man, but only ever a man, only ever alone, with eyes that are always too old.

No one is quite sure how the other two arrived without anyone else noticing, as there's only one main road in and out of the town, and the town isn't so large that a pair of attractive newcomers wouldn't be noticed.

The earliest anyone can remember seeing them, they had been slogging along the path beside the lake in strange old clothes, soaked from head to toe, as though they'd both decided to go swimming whilst fully dressed.

Not that anyone would ever do such a peculiar thing.

_"I-I just don't understand. Why now? There's nothing going on, nothing—"_

_"Mm, stop talking. Sleep now. Talk tomorrow."_

_"I don't know, either. Maybe we finally annoyed the Sidhe enough. It doesn't matter."_

_"It does. What about the lake? What about Avalon?"_

_"Morgana has been Lady for centuries now. It helps her, gives her purpose again."_

_"Shut…up. Tomorrow."_

_"I…I can't. What…what if…what if you're gone? What if you both go away again?"_

_"We won't. We're here."_

_"Sleep."_

The house itself is small, small enough that it seems almost impossible to think three people live there. But then again, that is only because no one else has ever actually been inside it since they've lived there.

If anyone ever had, they would have found more than is physically possible to be contained within four simple stone walls.

A library that had been started in the fifth century, containing works that can no longer be found in the world, some in languages long-since lost.

A sunroom full of plants taken from all climes, each thriving despite never sharing the same soil in nature, encased in magic to mimic their natural habitats.

An observatory that can show the night sky in a way that shouldn't be possible from Earth, nebulae and comets and star clusters and galaxies all swirling together in their stately cosmic dance.

A bathroom that contains a bath so deep and wide it is almost like its own pond, the water always warm, always clean, always smelling faintly of lavender.

A bedroom that is larger than some modern flats, furnished as another bedroom had been a millennium and a half ago in another world lost to time, holding a four-poster bed with red hangings and a multitude of pillows.

A bed that doesn't need to be enhanced even the slightest bit in order to hold three people.

_"So, you two are friends? Even though, ah…"_

_"Even though I ran her through? Yes. I apologised and everything."_

_"He didn't know anyways, and at least I wasn't murdering anyone else. I'm fine with it."_

_"Oh. Well…alright, then."_

_"The bacon's burning, idiot."_

_"The what? Oh, fuck!"_

_"You know, of all the modern language, I think I like that word the most."_

_"I do, too. It can mean so many things."_

_"Oh, Christ, what am I going to do with the pair of you?"_

_"Enjoy us, of course."_

_"1500 years, we have some ideas as to how. Freya's made a list."_

_"Fuck."_

_"You're burning the bacon again."_

_"Fuck the bacon."_

Three people live in the house at the end of the lane.

The young man with eyes that are too old for his face, who sometimes speaks to trees and rivers and even the lake. He keeps two very large, peculiar cats about him, one snowy-white, the other tawny tortoiseshell. They only ever come to his hand, winding between his ankles with purrs that sound almost like growls. The world is different around him; brighter, more vibrant, as though his presence stirs some life that is dormant otherwise.

Another man, as unlike the first as the sun is unalike the moon, who speaks with a strange and dignified accent, who carries himself upright and unshakable, someone Atlas could envy. Sometimes, he practices with an ancient sword in the yard, dueling with imaginary foes. Most days, however, the sword rests above the fireplace, and the sturdy, oft-abused straw man guards the vegetables and herbs in peace as he scrapes out weeds and tends new growth, fulfilling a millennia-old dream.

A woman, small and slight, almost doll-like when placed beside the men, yet with a strength as great as their own, a framework of steel beneath the delicate beauty, visible in the flash of teeth when she grins too sharply. Cats always find her when she is around, with the exception of the white and the tortoiseshell. Even the vicious one-eyed tom that's been a permanent fixture in the town for years will let her scratch his notched ears and arch his knobby back under her hand. Sometimes she'll stand at the edge of the lake, gazing out over the waters with a wistful fondness, and the reeds around the shore sound like a woman's laughter when the wind blows through them.

The world is not at war, or at least, no more than it usually is.

There are no great disasters leveling the earth in fire and chaos.

No dire straits have befallen the kingdoms that were united so long ago.

Albion's greatest need lay in the heart of her last living citizens, who carried all that she is and had been in their memories. Fifteen hundred years, her children have earned their peace.

And for the three people who live in the house that was built beside the lake of Avalon long before anyone can remember, peace is exactly what they find.


End file.
